Will Of The Emperor
by Carcer
Summary: The influence and reach of the Emperor extends farther than anyone could ever comprehend. His ascension to the Golden Throne entails far more than the Imperium realizes. Will continue if reception is good. Constructive criticism is welcome. Read and enjoy
1. The Golden Aquila

Disclaimer: I do not own Warhammer 40,000. All references belong to Games Workshop. I only own the characters and static setting. Enjoy.

"To each of us falls a task, and all the Emperor requires of us Guardsmen, is that we stand the line, and we die fighting. It is what we do best. We die standing."

-General Governor Sturnn: Cadian 412th

The Golden Aquila

Year M.39.756/Planet Lunamoth/Artham Province

_These people were born on the battlefield. Gunfire, sirens, and screams; those were their lullabies… _

Lunamoth, the planet of light, was brighter now, more than ever before. Titanic battle barges in orbit littered the lands with plasma and artillery fire. In the blink of an eye, entire cities were laid to waste before the merciless wave of destructive malice. Man, woman, and child succumbed to shock in their underground shelters; as the realization hit home, that the very sky was falling upon them, and their lives would, to them, undoubtedly soon come to an end.

Calm plains that once horded vast quantities of grain and livestock were now nothing more than wastelands of dust and flame. Continents shifted and oceans boiled by the sheer amount of entropy created from the orbital bombardment. Amongst this scene of absolute Discordia, the backbone of the Imperium, the Imperial Guard, stand as a shield against the raging torrents of the selfish, the soulless, and the mad.

Lieutenant Cozziak of the Cadian 661st looked upon her men as the shrill cry of shell and mortar fire rained down upon her unit of guardsmen. The acrid smell of smoke peaked and mingled with the clashing of bone and sinew. Craters the size of provinces could be seen as far as the eye could strain, toxic ash billowing from their bowels. Of the forty eight men and women she led to the trenches, only twelve had survived the massacred charge to take this worthless foothold. The indifferent Commissar, Breton, ill prepared them for the task, and had given faulty intelligence on the enemy that now assaulted the once peaceful planet of Lunamoth. What had once been thought as a simple insurrection quickly came to be realized, as a full blown invasion by the Ruinous Powers that all citizens of the Imperium feared, the twisted forces of Chaos.

"Private Shakral!" she barked to one of the grayed, mud filth covered soldiers, "Have the remaining guardsmen form up on me and lay down cover fire with your lasrifles!" As Shakral gave his superior the most incredulous and horrified look, the Lieutenant aimed her own rifle barrel at the Private's forehead, affirming with cold words: "Double time or you'll soon be among the dead! I do not tolerate cowardice in any form!" Obeying Cozziak with the answer of: "Yes ma'am!" he hastily gathered, formed, and organized the disoriented crack unit behind their pragmatic leader crouched within the trenches. Ruby streams of light poured from their rifles in unison plunging into a group of Chaos cultists, charging the guardsmen's weakly formed firing line. Some of them she could recognize even from this distance as men and women she once served with. "Emperor save us…" the Lieutenant whispered.

Once smiling faces were now tainted with marks of daemonic entities. Many were deformed from exposure to the powerful warp energies that heralded the coming of Chaos. Sores, fangs, and ornate claws grew to reward their maniacal obsession with power. Their eyes torn out and the sockets cackling with fiery crimson light. They carried serrated knives, swords, haphazardly constructed laspistols, and worst of all residual energy from the warp. Instead of friendly laughter exulting from their mouths, cries and chants filled the chaffed air. _"Kill! Maim! Burn! We are Chaos and the Pantheon has blessed us with a feast! Slay them all!" _

The searing touch of lasfire answered their heretical calls. Volleys of gem colored lines sliced through and charred the oncoming fanatics. Their maniacal declarations quickly replaced with either silence or regretful moans for the mistake of turning their backs on the Emperor's light. Of any xenos, mutant, and heretic known to the galaxy, Lieutenant Cozziak loathed traitors above them all.

As the first surge of cultists were stricken down by the lasrifle volley another took its place. Wave after suicidal wave of zealot plunged themselves forward into Cozziak's group of guardsmen. "Check your targets!" Cozziak snarled: "Make every shot count!" As her unit emptied charge upon charge into the impossibly unending horde, the Lieutenant quickly ducked into the trenches producing a vox transmitter from her IG issue backpack. The adrenaline coursing through Cozziak's system made it a slight chore to tune the mechanism to the properly secured channels but nonetheless she heard the almost indistinguishable "ping" upon reaching the correct frequency.

She began yelling into the receiver: "This is Cozziak of the Cadian 661st requesting immediate support!" After what seemed like an eternity a voice replied on the other end: "This is Commissar Breton at LaGrange point three, I have your signal pinpointed at fourteen clicks south of the Artham defense line. Confirm?" With a bad taste upon tongue her response was full of spite not audible to her Commissar: "Confirmed Sir! I have a roster of twelve guardsmen, Sir!" A sickening thud resounded from her right and she caught a glimpse of one of her men settling to the mud, large wounds smoking from his back. "Make that eleven, Sir!" She reiterated. After a moment of static the Commissar's voice cackled over the vox, a sentence nearly as welcome as a Primarch of the Emperor. "Copy that Cozziak, Regimental Command has a unit of Kasrkins en route and we will provide Basilisk cover. Your objectives from here on in have changed Lieutenant. The Ordo Malleus has sent a battle barge to relieve our planet's defense grid. Your objective will be to hold the southern edge of the province line until they arrive via deep strike." The Lieutenant exulted: "Understood! Cozziak out!"

As relieved as she was about the Kasrkins already on their way, the statement of the Ordo Malleus troubled her immensely. For such an organization to be sent to this planet there would have to be serious Daemonic threat present for them to be summoned here. The Golden Aquila she wore around her neck flailed in the air as she sharply turned around to hear the most dreaded of sounds. Flanking their position was an arachnid like inspired machine. It was ornamentally decorated with bronzed unholy inscriptions and skulls of prior conquests. A golden carving of a Daemon was upon its spiked cubed cranium, with a cannon protruding from its jagged teeth. Its red eyes sparking from unknown circuitry. The entire abomination was like staring at a giant black insectoid, equipped with deadly flailing appendages. It looked alive and worst of all; it was quickly trudging to their trench. "Chaos Defiled Machinery." Cozziak gasped... She dropped the vox and her lasrifle scurrying up to the remaining men: "Guardsmen concentrate your fire on that defiled machination!"

Her unit turned in unison to the approaching behemoth and started to lay down additional suppressive fire upon the Defiler. Cozziak looked up as a sharp piercing whine emitted from the graying sky. She saw craters the size of houses appear where the relentless cultist horde had been, the ground shifting with an alarming jerk, nothing but red mist and black ash to mark where they once were. The Basilisk strike had done its job with the unbridled fury of earth shaker rounds. Rearing back to the raging black machine, she issued quick and successive orders: "Aim for the joints of that accursed thing and cover me!" Her men did exactly that as she furiously sprinted towards her possible demise roaring: "For the Emperor!" Cozziak's legs began moving at a near blur as her boots kicked up caked mud and soot, her arms pumping faster to account for her momentum. As the leering daemonic machine grew closer she pulled out her bayonet with one hand and a krak grenade with the other, releasing the now empty waist holders for her weapons. The defiler, slightly slowed by the suppressing fire from her unit acknowledged the zealed approach of the Lieutenant by firing a round from its daemon ornamental cannon.

With honed reflexes Cozziak leapt forward and tucked her legs to her chest in a barrel roll narrowly avoiding the shot. She quickly bolted upward never losing speed, not even glancing back at the gaping hole where she had once been. Her ear drums were filled with ringing yet with resolve not known by any mortal she plunged forward. The Defiler was right before her now and with a mighty heave she slid underneath the machine, its metallic claws barely missing her in a swipe that would have surely beheaded the Lieutenant. She jabbed her bayonet into one of its leg joints. Sound suddenly came back to her as screeching was heard from the grinding metal of the disrupted appendage. The guardswoman's slide turned into a role and she quickly managed to break her acceleration with a now empty hand.

Cozziak thumbed the krak grenade open pushing the little green orb's switch. Already she could feel the item producing heat. As the defiler's head turned to face her Cozziak primed and with trained hand-eye coordination she hurled the grenade saying a silent prayer, against all odds the item slid perfectly into the barrel cannon of the Defiler's pseudo mouth, the Lieutenant went to ground covering her head, and seconds later the beast's cranial cavity exploded with a sickening sound of wrenched apart metal.

Looking up from her position now drenched in dirt she could see that the behemoth was scattered over the field, a white hot piece of shrapnel just inches from her forehead. Off in the distance she could see her men raising their lasrifles into the air with jubilation. She would have smiled had there not been dark figures behind them emerging from the billowed smoke and ash. Humanoid men clad in black power armor marched forward equipped with insidious power swords, chain axes, and bolters of every kind.

Before Cozziak could warn her men, thunderous fire emitted from the Chaos Space Marine's ranks and shredded apart the last of her unit. In awe and disbelief she witnessed as her men were ripped apart by a mere five seconds of assault fire. The Lieutenant quickly remembered that she was unarmed; her rifle had been left in the trench. "No…" Was all she could choke out in despair as tears of anger streamed down her mud covered cheeks. Standing to her feet she could only think: "My Emperor, I have failed you."

Clasping the Aquila around her neck she made a swift and resolute choice, the only one allowed to a soldier of her caliber, she charged forward into Chaos. Rounds of deadly metal zipped passed her ears and after dashing just a few yards bolter fire pierced her thigh. Cozziak stumbled feeling the trickle of warmth and hot pain in her leg. Collapsing to the ground she struggled to rise as another round tore through her hip and then her forearm and shoulder. The Lieutenant could hear sadistic laughter emanating from the marching corrupted legion. In total defiance to the obvious outcome she rose to her knees, the taste of copper slowly pooling in her mouth. As one of the towering corrupt warriors finally reached her looking down in amusement she could hear the deep rasping breaths of his mighty lungs. The Chaos Marine wore an elaborate helm decorated with bones and encrusted with twisted jewels made in the signs of the different Ruinous Powers. He spoke in a guttural mechanical voice: "_Where is your Emperor now? Foolish child… Submit to Chaos, to the Pantheon of our gods, and I will let you live. Perhaps you could be my plaything? Heh." _The Guardswoman said but one word: "Never." "_Then die!"_ yelled the corrupt marine raising his bolt pistol. A loud echoing bang, a pain in her chest, followed by darkness was all Cozziak knew next.

The touch of hands… floating… warmth… "Is this death?" her inner voice whispered. Then finally, light.

Her eyes opened and immediately she noticed she was engulfed by some strange liquid. Pale green light was present beneath her buoyant feet. She was scarcely clad in a medical habit and oddly warm despite her surroundings. The Lieutenant's vision blurred and cleared as she realized that this was a cylindrical apothecarion tank. She could feel some sort of breathing apparatus around her mouth and nostrils. Intravenous feeds were connected to her subsequent wounds. Standing before her through the thin glass, she could see an Apothecary clad in white and red power armor, looking over feeds in a panel attached to the tank. Beyond her enclosing the facility was quite dank and appeared inhumanly sterile.

The Space Marine Apothecary saw her apparent awakening and stated in a vibrant synthetic voice: "Ah, you've awoken a little early Lieutenant." Cozziak reached for her collarbone searching for the Aquila only to find it was missing and amazingly enough, no bullet wound. "Your Aquila?" The Apothecary inquired: "Perhaps you should see for yourself, daughter of the Emperor." The Apothecary reached into a compartment out of her line of sight below the tank. He produced the necklace and dangled it in front of the apothecarion's glass, perfectly lateral with her eyes. The Aquila was bent and warped; the wings and talons of the symbol were firmly enclosed around a piece of metal. Cozziak's eyes grew wide as she identified the devil within the detail. Wedged in the middle of the holy symbol was the bolter round the chaos marine had fired into her. The Aquila's wings and talons had formed over the bolter round as if cradling the deadly projectile.

She wanted to say: "How?" but couldn't due to the oxygenation device wrapped around her face. "All your questions will be answered in due time, fellow servant of the Emperor." The Apothecary bowed his head after this statement, taking his red armored fist and banging it to his chest proceeding to say: "For now, simply know that you are in the safe hands of the Ordo Malleus. We, the Grey Knights, will oversee your recovery. As the Emperor's sacrifice is immortal so shall we immortalize those who sacrificed all for him. Rest now Lieutenant Cozziak." With that said he flicked a switch upon his panel and within moments the Lieutenant began to feel drowsy and then her consciousness faded into a silent dream.


	2. Fidelis Peregrinus

Disclaimer: I do not own Warhammer 40,000. All references belong to Games Workshop. I only own the characters and static setting. Enjoy.

Side Note: I do not own Abaddon The Despoiler

"Humanity has always looked skyward for it's true path."

(Unknown)

Chapter II

Fidelis Peregrinus 

Year M.39.756/ Segmentum Obscurus /The Aeternus Curia embarking for Titan/Several days After Lunamoth Encounter

Her name was Aeternus Curia, a mother without limits. She was conceived and birthed within the volcanic foundries of Mars during the Horus Heresy and since been in the service of humanity. Countless battles saw her destruction many times over. The Imperium however saw fit to salvage the giantess repeatedly, thus, invoking her name. It didn't take many centuries after the Second Founding for the Grey Knights to notice her and thus she was lost one last time, only on record that is. Aeternus was more than just a ten kilometer barge now. She was a star dragon with teeth sharper than anything the galaxy dared to imagine, her scars were ancient holy sigils engraved upon her skin through time, every marking a ward of protection for her children. The years had been kind to her; the Ordo Malleus bestowed the ability to house three times the marines and crew of any other vessel. They gifted her with the mightiest warp engines conceivable and armaments no enemy of the Imperium sane or otherwise would wish to face.

Deep within the warp stream the terrible mater cuts her way through the void. Astropaths guide her sheer titanic bulk through the predations of malice mortus space time. Within Curia's vast body there is a chapel unlike any other; crisscrossing gothic architecture that not only awes but threatens the mind's sanity, if stared at for too long. It's structural design so intricate and detailed that only madness could drive a man to study it all. The magnificent work carved from the very basalt located on Titan, home world of the Grey Knights. Its structure was enhanced by the devoted prayers of its inhabitants. Imperial figures from every walk of life prostrated themselves before relics of the Emperor and his Primarchs. Battle Sisters, Space Marines, Inquisitors, and even Psykers flooded the chapel, all of them singing and chanting praise to their deity. Within this congregation of His host, Chaplain Apothecary Vergil Antenor of the Grey Knights concluded the daily devotion with his deep cantation, "For Him and His sacrifice!" the host bows respectfully afterwards dispersing through the many entry ways out into the forward atrium of this holy ground.

Like living branches they split off until only one figure remained, both tall and imposing between the relatively simple pews symmetrically placed. Donning bulky silver and gold ceramite armor with the holiest of sacred symbols carved ever so delicately into its chest with a number of purity seals upon the exterior, Grandmaster Rashidi Aesc was almost immaculate in his distinguishing organic and inorganic features. His coal filled eyes settled deeply behind his olive brown skin contrasting to the Chaplain Apothecary's pallid and plain facial characteristics. "Grandmaster Aesc!", Vergil excited as his lord and mentor graced down the aisles to the chapel altar. They beat their chests giving the traditional warrior's greeting and grimly acknowledged the dire need for this exchange. "How is she?", inquired the Grandmaster; "She is slowly but surely recovering from her wounds my lord. The bolter rounds did a number upon her skeletal and connective tissues, though she is pulling through quite nicely to our astonishment. I project that she will be free of the tank within the next day." Aesc grinned at this good news proceeding to ask: "May I see the Aquila?", "Of course Sir." Vergil replied returning to the altar and pulling out the item from a seemingly hidden compartment. "A true miracle it is." Antenor remarked; dangling it in front of the overbearing Grandmaster. As Aesc gently extracted the Aquila from Vergil he could only marvel at the bolter round cradled within it's talons, wings, and beaks.

"This is utterly impossible Chaplain." he criticized. "This is made of the weakest metals, how could this have happened? Are you certain this is not the Ruinous Powers at work?" Vergil nodded his head in earnest replying: "I am most convinced Grandmaster as are Zilivorn and Olin." Rashidi's eyes narrowed at this statement as he grabbed Vergil by the neck and pinned him to the top of the altar in one swift movement spitting: "You exposed our Master Librarian and his protégé to this!? Do you have any idea what you risked in doing so!? You could have corrupted them with unknown warp presence! Laora is hardly ready for the full burden of her mentor!" As he began shaking Vergil vigorously the surprised Chaplain retorted: "I did what had to be done my Lord! For Him! I had to be certain it wasn't a coincidence! That all of this was not in vain! I was vindicated my Lord! HE will understand that..." Aesc threw the Chaplain into the sacred altar nearly cracking the ancient stone. He turned away from the Chaplain maliciously saying, "I understand your eagerness for this Vergil, truly I do, our very survival hangs in the balance, but if you ever go over my authority again, *begins tapping an intimidatingly large and beautifully crafted double edged sword at his side* "Your head will reside on that altar…" Vergil bowed his head regaining his composure: "Understood." He watched on with sullen eyes as the Grandmaster strode out of the chapel, pondering everything to come as the Aquila rested silently at his feet.

----The Eye of Terror----

Not since the Fall had it ever diverted its attention from holy Terra. Gazing upon her with such jealousy and hunger that no being of the warp could satiate. It never blinked, never shuddered, never flinched; until now. The eye distorted and for the first time since the birth of She Who Thirsts, a shrill and wraith like cry echoed from it's iris, disappearing as soon as it had come. Upon hellish Cadia the stirring of the cradle could be heard all over its surface and the Despoiler was enraged.

"_The eye cries! Do you hear that!? Feel it's agony my kin!!!!" _Abaddon roared over the dead landscape to his legion of underlings. Pointing with Horus's talons to a Bezerker he began to spit out: _"Do you know why it is so, Ragorak?" _he bellowed while pointing Drach'nyen to the crimson sky. The ascendant guttered out an almost unintelligible response: "It thirsts for blood! It thirsts for the false Emperor's throne!" Abaddon took one insane glance at Ragorak and hurled Drach'nyen through the Bezerker's helmeted skull. Upon piercing the fool's head, it's demonic influences shrieked writhing and wrenching the Chaos Space Marine apart until nothing but a thick mass of flesh mixed with jagged shards of armor remained. As if by the Despoilers's will, grotesque daemonic creatures surged from dark voids within the ground and feasted upon the gore, shrieking with delight. The legions of Chaos shouted with joy and reverence at the act of barbarism as Abaddon recalled Drach'nyen to his side.

Hand and talon raised he began shouting _"The Four have shown me the path to victory through the blessed Eye my kin! The False Emperor stirs and we shall make sure he wakes up to a galaxy of pure torment! We will bask in black light as we bathe ourselves in the Imperium's blood! Death to all who oppose the truth of our Pantheon!" _Deformed laughs and cheers sputtered forth from the gathered corrupted marines and. As Abaddon looked to the crimson light of the Eye once more he began to speak to it. "_Worry not my masters…I will not let her live. Her soul will belong to you." _A maniacal laugh spilled forth that only seemed to invigorate the Eye even further and reach far out, into the Segmentum. The gods would not be denied.

-------

Cozziak awoke within the apothecarion tank with a start, haunted upon what she had just seen. She began to pound upon the thick glass enclosing attempting to break out. The dank, sterile environment lit up suddenly and an Apothecary rushed in, fluidly moving his hands over various panels around the tank. The pallid green lights beneath her feet faded away as the primordial cushioning was drained out of openings that slit apart, carrying the fluids to recyclers. As the breathing apparatus depressurized, hissing gases and lifting up onto the tank ceiling, she was carried by an attached suspender vest onto the cold floor of the facility. The Lieutenant than realized there was fluid in her stomach as she regurgitated the liquid concoction onto the floor as servo skulls began to prick and pry at her skin removing the thin medical habit. The Apothecary swiftly came to her aid saying in his mechanical strained voice that echoed off the vast place: "Take it slow Lieutenant. You were dreaming and swallowed a bit of the cushioning formula." He draped a large brown cloth over her as the servo skulls fluttered into the dark ceilings. "Where am I? Who are you?" Cozziak weakly inquired shaking violently from shock and chill. "I am the same Marine you saw when you awoke earlier. Do you remember?" he replied. She nodded her head in awe of the giant Astartes helping Cozziak to her bare feet. "I am apothecary Faraii Paleor of the Grey Knights and you are in the Apothecary's keep of the Aeternus Curia." Cozziak, bewildered at this statement sputtered out "I'm within an Imperial ship!? What about my planet… my home… How…." She was cut short by Paleor, "I am only permitted to answer so many of your questions Lieutenant. You are to be debriefed by my superiors."

He began ushering her to one of the numerous examination tables lined along the wall as the servo skulls once again floated down in anticipation for tasks. "I have been ordered to give you an examination; afterwards you may bathe and compose yourself with an Imperial uniform we will provide for you." She nodded again in understanding and let the Apothecary work as she dried herself watching him punch in information upon a data tablet. The servos whined and buzzed around Cozziak examining every former bolter wound location. It wasn't long until the Apothecary nodded his helmeted cranium stating he was finished leading her over to a small area pocketed by drains. She removed the cloth from her body as the glittering skulls floated down carrying water tubes to shower the remaining cushioning fluid off of her. As their task was done Faraii handed her another large cloth to dry herself with and gave her a basic green Imperial Guardsmen's attire with no ranks or symbols save for the Aquila upon the collars. She quickly dressed looking at the Apothecary for the next step.

Bringing up a link on his internal vox, the Apothecary stated seemingly to himself that he had completed his task. "Now we wait for your escorts to bring you to my superiors." Cozziak looked on at the still Astarte, seemingly inhuman and yet she felt the need to thank him. "Thank you for saving my life." The Astarte looked down upon her seemingly unaffected by her gratitude. "It is my duty to heal, fellow servant. It is not me you should thank." As the two waited for her escorts, Cozziak could only help but wonder, what in the Emperor's name was happening?


End file.
